Insomnia
by Riya3
Summary: The other tent had been destroyed in the raid, so they would share. And experiment. It was like a sleepover. ItaShi. Yaoi.


**Insomnia - ****_The other tent had been destroyed in the raid, so they would share. And experiment. It was like a sleepover, right? Itachi/Shisui._**

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It was just an experiment.

Their other tent had been destroyed in the bandit-nin attack, and they were left with just one, and one more day until they returned to the village. Somehow, in the middle of the forests of Fire Country and under a shivering night, Itachi was slipping under Shisui's blankets.

"Well, it's like a sleepover, isn't it?" Shisui grinned his boyish grin. He was lying down on the other side of the tent, and a decent amount of the blankets were already draped over him. He wasn't so much older – fifteen, really – but he liked to think of himself as an adult. Which was fine, because Itachi still hopelessly thought of himself as a child sometimes.

Itachi didn't think so. "I suppose," he said stiffly, keeping a distance as far as possible without leaving the blankets. They were lying down, facing each other. An entire foot of space was between them, and Itachi wasn't going any closer. Because then Shisui would know.

"Have you had a sleepover before?"

"No."

"Well, it's like this. Except, we're supposed to play games, too. Like shogi." Shisui went on. "I haven't had any either, really. You're the only one I've stayed friends with for long."

Itachi knew. Shisui was transient; you had to see through to the firm pillar than held him down before you could get close to him. He'd seen that pillar long ago – something Shisui called the Will of Fire. But he had other things to focus on, because every time was the same.

Seeing Shisui wasn't like seeing Tokuma or Kaeru. It was different. Maybe if he hadn't been in anbu for so long he would have been confused on what he felt. But he had, and he had seen enough to know what it was. The pressure in his standard-issue pants left no doubt. He couldn't do anything, though, because even if Shisui was older, he was far more innocent.

Seeing the blank look on his friend's face, Shisui sighed and drew closer, trying to cover more of the space between them so they would have equal amounts of blanket. He noticed that Itachi flinched away almost instinctively.

"'Tachi?" He frowned. "Is something wrong?"

Itachi shook his head quickly, efficiently. "Nothing. I'm just having trouble getting to sleep."

"Well, maybe it's because we're both freezing," Shisui suggested. Once again, he moved closer, and this time Itachi had nowhere else to shift to. It only took one brush of his hand at the younger boy's waist, one backward movement, before the hand passed over something else. He froze.

Itachi closed his eyes, trying to take a breath. But it came out shuddering, worse than the feeling after he'd killed all three bandit-nin and had washed the blood off in the stream. That, he was used to. This, it was different. Did he _want_ what he saw in the empty anbu briefing rooms sometimes? Did he want to _feel_ that sight of sweat and silenced moans and hands slipping under uniform cloth? He'd always thought he didn't. But Shisui was different.

"Itachi?" Shisui asked with a slight smirk. "You know, you could just go and return in a little while. No need to torture youself," his voice was filled with cheek, not what Itachi had expected.

He didn't reply. He was still slightly frozen.

"Hmm, but Iwouldn't really want to do it in a cold, dark forest either," Shisui reasoned. "I suppose I could turn around for a bit. There's extra cloth in my bag, over there on the side of the tent. Just in the front pocket. Careful not to take the one on the right, though. I think I cleaned my tanto with that and I'd rather not be responsible for scarring you for life in the morning." He chuckled.

Itachi squeezed his eyes closed and turned quickly so that his back was to his friend. Did Shisui just say?... Yes, he did. And the pressure in his pants wasn't going away.

So he squeezed his eyes shut and let out his breath. Clenched one hand into his pillow. Slipped the other under his waistband. He vaguely thought that he should be embarrassed, but the relief at Shisui not thinking weirdly of him was too much. Now he was throbbing harder at the simple thought of doing it while _Shisui _was there. Maybe Hound-taichou's perverted ways were contagious.

He pushed the cloth out of the way, and one hand ambled down to grip himself, almost roughly. Unforgivingly. Because Shisui was there, and although he knew Shisui had done far more than he ever did, Shisui was still innocent in a way he couldn't describe.

Itachi unclenched one hand from the pillow and pressed it against his mouth as he moved into his other hand, thrusting harshly, recklessly. Because he needed to be finished as quickly as possible, because Shisui was there behind him. And he hadn't turned like he'd said. Shisui was watching his back, soundlessly. Why was Shisui watching his back?

It didn't matter. He had to be finished quickly. Itachi bit down on his fingers, preventing his moans like he'd taught himself to. His grip over his cock tightened and he palmed himself just to slow his heartbeat before continuing.

He was doing this beside Shisui. He didn't think he'd ever finish, because Shisui's presence behind him was ten times more arousing than all the perverted books Hound-taichou liked to pass around.

The next moment, there was a shuffle in the blankets behind him, and another form was pressed up against his back. Shisui's arm came around him to grip the wrist of the hand he was using, and he drew it away. Itachi moaned again into his hand at the lack of friction on his cock.

"Don't do it like that," Shisui muttered into his ear from behind. "You'll only hurt yourself. That's not the point, Itachi." He pulled Itachi's arm away, pinning it behind him, between their bodies.

"Shisui?" Itachi asked silently, loosening his vise-like grip over his mouth. "Let me go, you said I could finish."

"Not like that. That's not how you do it," Shisui told him. The cheek was gone from his voice, and his tone was serious. "It's supposed to feel good, you idiot. Like this."

And before he could speak, Itachi's breath hitched as he felt another hand take its place around the throbbing inside his pants. Shisui's touch was light as it smoothed over him, making him cover his mouth once again and wordlessly push into the hand.

"And don't do that either," Shisui said, pulling away the hand that was over his mouth. "This way, I'll know if I'm doing it right, ok?"

"Shisui-"

The friction of _Shisui's _cold hand was amazing it he gripped his cock and started with long strokes. His other hand held both Itachi's hands together behind his back. Itachi tried to bite his lip to prevent the sounds from escaping, but they still filtered through. Soft moans filled the small, dark tent.

Soon, the slicking sound began to overshadow even his gasps. Itachi bit his lip in embarrassment as he leaked more than ever, and as Shisui's hand became coated in him.

"S-shisui, why are you-"

"I don't know, Itachi," Shisui murmured into his ear. "I'm not sure. Maybe it's because you're my friend."

It didn't make sense, but Itachi believed him. Because Shisui was _olderbutinnocent _and had lots of experience in the empty briefing rooms like the others, and he would know if he felt the same throbbing feeling Itachi felt. He didn't feel that, because he didn't feel the same way, and the heat pressing against Itachi's lower back was purely physiological.

The hand picked up speed. Itachi pushed back unknowingly with his moan, and the _slick _continued in the quiet tent.

"Ah, Itachi, stay still," Shisui breathed. In retaliation, his other hand let go of Itachi's and slipped over to his front, creeping under the standard-issue anbu shirt. The coldness ran over Itachi's chest, raising goose bumps in their wake.

"Shisui, your hands are – cold-"

"I know," Shisui replied dryly between harsh breaths. "Want me to do a katon jutsu to warm them up, or something? Might sent the tent on fire, but at least we'll be warm."

"No, that's fine. Cold hands are fine."

The hands moving across his body resumed, and Itachi took the chance to bring his own forward and clamp them over his mouth again. Because now there was burning pleasure down there and Shisui's other hand was brushing against his hardened nipples and he couldn't contain anything and the bandit-nin from the country over would come investigate if he didn't muffle the sounds.

He came in a silent, covered moan, spilling into Shisui's hand. Shisui stroked him a few last times, experimentally. If only to feel the shivers of his body from the new sensitivity.

It was an embarrassing amount, but Shisui merely reached over him, into the pocket of the bag, drawing out the cloth that was _not _the cloth he'd used to wipe his tanto. He pressed close to him as he leaned over and Itachi clenched his fingers into the pillow again, wondering if the hardness now pressing into his own back would need to be taken care of.

"Ah, you last a while, Itachi. I'm kind of impressed," Shisui lamented as he cleaned off his hand. "Last time with Miyu, I only managed a few minutes." He handed the cloth to him when he was done.

Itachi nodded silently. Took the cloth. Reached down with it and cleaned off the rest. But his treacherous mind was still wondering about …

"Anyway, now I've got a problem too," his friend went on. "You don't mind, do you? If I turn?"

Itachi slowly shifted over in the blankets until he was facing the slightly older boy. "Of course not," he said in earnest. "I'll help you, Shisui."

* * *

It was just another experiment, and ten years later Itachi still treasured it.

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**Inspired by 'somnambulist', by Quillslinger, which is beautifully written. Everything by Quillslinger is beautifully written.**


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